Frostbitten
by She'll Always Be a Princess
Summary: Usually, there can only be one. Not this year. The 50th Hunger Games is coming fast, and two sisters in particular are not looking forward to it. Separated from the others in District 1 for their distaste of the Games, Elsa and Anna Hirdóttir await anxiously Reaping Day. AU Quarter Quell, no Haymitch, etc. R&R, updates sporadic! Rated T because of violence and paranoia.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_ The hydraulic hiss of a train signals its stopping. A man with auburn hair and a thin mustache escorts his wife up the shining silver stairs. The woman turns her slender face towards two girls who stand at the station, a smile on her fair lips. The younger girl escapes from the grasp of the plump woman, a secretary of the mayor, and embraces her mother. Her auburn braids whirl in the wind, falling against her mother__'__s silk dress as she tightens her hug. The older hesitantly walks towards her father, who grasps her shoulders tenderly._

_ They exchange looks of regret and compassion, and nothing is said. The silence speaks loudly enough. She turns away from her father, grasping her mother__'__s hand in farewell. The stark difference of temperature, the girl__'__s cold skin and mother__'__s warmth, only seems to separate the broken family even more._

_ A conductor taps his wrist, and the mother looks away fro her daughters. With a stroke of the younger girl__'__s hair, she bids a final farewell._

_ The door hisses closed, and three figures stand solemnly as the train disappears into the tunnel cared into the mountains. The final car of the train is swallowed by the darkness, when suddenly__—_

I awake screaming again. My heart is beating like a drum, threatening to explode fro my chest and tap dance across the floor. I clutch at the fabric of my nightgown, gasping for the cool breath of early spring. It's still dark.

My breath begins to slow down to a normal rate, and I throw the covers off of my body. The silky fabric of my pajamas sticks to me with sweat, and I quickly begin to peel it off, exchanging it for a camisole top and some thin shorts.

Sitting sideways on my bed, I slowly wrap my arms around my trembling legs and rock back and forth slightly. A few tears escape, and I wipe them up with the heels of my hands quickly, soon allowing my knees to become slick with my tears. Soon my head is back on the pillow, slowly creating a wet outline of my face. I close my eyes, relaxing my arms, and slowly stretching my legs back out. I don't bother to slip the covers on again, the cold doesn't bother me anyway.

A few hours seems to have passed, as the next thing I hear is the knocking on my solid oak door. I open my crusted eyes, rubbing away the sleep, and pull a strand of hair from my mouth. I hate tasting m breath in the morning. Allowing a little grimace, I nearly miss Kai calling me for breakfast.

"Miss Elsa, breakfast is almost ready. Are you ready?"

Ready? Ready for what? I squint my eyes slightly, finally finding my vision and seeing the outfit laid out for me.

Oh. That's right. I swing my feet over the edge of my featherbed, and yawn quietly. "Right, I'll be right down, Kai. Thanks."

I hear his footsteps echo down the hall, and I know he's gone. He's always so formal, unlike his wife Gerda, who acts much like a mother to Anna and I.

Anna. How did I forget? Today I have to face her again. I contemplate how I'll avoid her this time, as she always seems to find a way to try and spend time with me. Reaping Day has aways been awful, since I don't see any reason I need to leave my room, let alone leave the mansion. It hasn't appealed to me ever since the incident…

I swat away the awful memories with one hand, while the other pulls on black tights, a teal tunic with embroidered designs, a black sweater, teal gloves, a pair of magenta slip-on shoes, and a matching silky scarf. I decide to just let my white-blonde hair flow down to my ribs, placing a crystal headband above my fringy bangs.

A sigh escapes my lips as I put on minimal makeup, nearly drawing an arc across my brow with the mascara brush. Finally I'm dressed, and I turn towards the door. My hand rests on the ornate knob, and I close my eyes as the knob turns. I inhale suddenly, as a million scents fill my nose, and it wrenches my eyes open almost forcibly.

Mixing scents of wood polish, lemon candles, toasting bread, fried eggs, and many indiscernible ones overflow my brain, and I'm left in my doorway stunned, probably looking very humorous to anyone in the mansion.

I straighten up, fold my hands behind my back, and slowly tread through the halls. They all seem so unfamiliar to me now, as I've rarely walked through them the last twelve years. I follow the ever-stronger scent of eggs and toast, finally finding the small dining hall.

Everyone had already sat down, so my entrance certainly surprises them all. Gerda had just finished up setting my plate, but the fork dropped into my eggs as soon as she saw I'd arrived. Kai simply stood there, and then Anna—oh, Anna—she stared at me as if she'd never seen me before. Her big eyes seemed to grow even wider, and her full mouth showed the mashed-up food in near-full.

I clear my throat and sit down, smiling slightly in embarrassment, and thank Gerda for my plate with a small nod. It's deathly quiet as I pick up my fork, the slightest scrape seeming like nails on a chalkboard. I look up every once in a while, still feeling the burning gazes of my family and near-family, feeling my ears burn brighter and brighter pink.

Finally, after almost five minutes, I set down my fork loudly and slide my chair across the shining wood floor.

"Excuse me," I say loudly, trying to withhold the shakiness in my tone, and pick up my plate. I head to the hallway, my fork sliding off my plate and hitting the floor with a loud jangle.

I bend down to pick it up, but somehow Gerda has found her way there first. I look at her motherly face, and see she is concerned for me. "Please, Elsa," she says softly, the crinkles around her mouth and eyes contracting and expanding, "try to finish your meal with us? I know it's a little awkward, but we'll try our best to keep it normal. It's just a relief to see you again is all, dear." She smiles almost sadly, and I have to say yes. Even my anxiety is trumped by Gerda's kind tone.

Turning quickly on my heel, I quickly sit down again, regretfully allowing Kai to push in my chair for me. I go on eating as normal, but stop briefly when I hear the soft tones of Gerda to Anna. She had still been staring, and I assume Gerda was asking her to stop.

I hear the creaking of a chair, but keep my head down. I'm suddenly very interested in my eggs, toast, fruit, and iced tea. I'm surprised, though, as all of a sudden I feel someone tugging at my hair. I prick up suddenly, and Gerda brings a stubby finger to her lips, and I see her gesture to Anna's empty seat.

Gosh, she's sent Anna do to my hair.

I inhale deeply through my nose and nod, going back to my meal. My sister's nimble fingers twisted my hair, keeping my bangs natural and full-on incorporating my headband into it. I feel her braid the finality of it and twist it into a low bun, and finally she slips in a final pin. I feel her breath on my neck as she examines it, then walking back to her seat and sitting down quickly.

I can see a tiny smile on her lips, and she keeps glancing up, waiting for me to respond.

"Thank you," I let escape from my lips, a small, meaningful smile gracing my lips. That's all she needed, as the now-fifteen-year-old's grin glows brighter, and she goes back to eating her omelet.

The tension seems to have broken, as now Gerda claps her hands and smiles her warm smile at both of us. "Well, now, that looks beautiful, Anna." The young teen smiles sheepishly and shovels another bite of eggs into her mouth, a little falling back to her plate accidentally.

Gerda chuckles lightly and looks at me, and I sigh. I know what's coming. Ever since…it…happened, I've known it was coming. "Dear, I believe you know what I'm about to say." What a mind reader she is. I nod slightly, biting off the tip of a strawberry, letting the tartness wash over my tongue. She sighs and looks at her own plate, which she's just plated, her eyes falling back on me. "After the Reaping, Elsa, unless you are picked, which then means—"

"I know," I interjects a bit too angrily. I regret it as suddenly as it passes from my lips. I nearly leave the table again, but I somehow force myself to stay at the table. I sigh and close my eyes, nodding. "I know. Please continue." I whisper, my voice slipping up at the end.

Gerda nods solemnly, clearing her voice timidly. "Apologies, dear. Anyways, after the Reaping, you will be appointed as mayor in your father and mother's—absences." I wish she would just be blunt. Just say it, say they died. Please. Spare me the euphemisms. I'm eighteen, about to be mayor, I can handle it.

That _is_ what I tell myself, at least.

"So," Gerda continues slowly, "there will be a meeting in thirty minutes, Elsa."

Thirty minutes! How wonderful, I just adore being looked at by everyone. Not like I'd prefer to be in my room or anything. I exhale through my nose, rubbing my temples with two fingers each. "Great, cant wait," I say shakily, not being able to contain my anxiety. I feel as if I might explode, but I won't. Not yet at least.

My plate is cold, and I decide I'm not hungry anymore. I rise from my chair and push it in myself, walking towards the hallway. "I'll be down in time for the meeting," I say in a clipped tone as my feet carry me towards my room.

I shut the door, not expecting the loud slam, and sit down on my bed. All the anxiety that has been building up within me like a bubbling teapot finally whistles, and I clamp my hands against the sides of my head, rocking slowly back and forth like early this morning. I gasp for clean air, and finally stand up to pace my room. Five minutes have passed. I walk to my vanity, resting my hands on the white-painted wood, and look in the mirror. I run fingers over the twisting strands of hair, and find the icy blue cord twisting in my braided bun. It's so beautiful, I don't know how she can stand to be around me. Around a _monster_.

I gasp and sit down on my bed, trying to fight the memory from exploding into my consciousness. The memory wins.

_ "__Elsa!__" __The young girl whispered, shaking the little six-year-old. __"__Psst, wake up!__" __She shook the little girl even more vigorously, the younger__'__s tiny pigtails shaking in the process._

_ A small sigh came from the older. __"__Go away Anna, go back to sleep,__" __she said with a loving grin._

_ Anna was pushed to the ground, and she pouted. Not wanting to give up, she crawled back onto the soft bed and laid right on her sister. __"__I can__'__t. The sky__'__s awake, so I__'__m awake, so we have to play!__" __She exclaimed dramatically, pointing to the bright lights of the parade outside. The Victory Tour had finished that day, their own District 1 celebrating a victor that year, so many adults and older children were still up celebrating._

_ Elsa shrugged her off again, but Anna hung on to the bed. She crawled on top of her sister again, opening up an eyelid. __"__D__'__ya wanna build a snowman?__"_

_ The older smirked, finally pulling down her covers. She stepped onto the cold wooden floor, slipping on some warm boots and a scarf, gesturing to her sister to follow._

_ "__Yay!__" __The three-year-old exclaimed, as Elsa tried to hush her. The little girl nearly went outside barefoot. She didn__'__t, though, thanks to her sister, and soon they were out back in the snowy fenced-in backyard, the snow illuminated by passing cars and other light sources._

_ The two girls smiled and giggled as they rolled up uneven snowballs for a child-sized snowman. Elsa hid behind it, moving its stick arms happily. __"__Hi, I__'__m Olaf, and I like warm hugs!__"_

_ Anna giggled, hugging the little snowman. __"__I love you, Olaf!__" __She exclaimed, smiling at her sister. Neither wanted this night to end._

_ Soon, though, the elder was getting tired. Anna had been jumping off snow drifts and was constantly asking Elsa to join her. __"__C__'__mon, Elsa, it__'__ll be fun!__" __She whined for the umpteenth time, and Elsa fumed through her nostrils, trying to keep her anger under control. Something in her always seemed to escalate her anger, but she dismissed it as normal feelings. They weren__'__t._

_ Finally, as Anna tugged on Elsa__'__s sleeve a final time, she whipped around quickly, her hand passing over her sister__'__s face. The little girl fell back into the snow, stunned, and Elsa__'__s hardened eyes softened. Her mouth formed a little __'__o__'__, and she rushed to her sister__'__s side. Anna pushed her away, but the snow was soaking into her nightgown, causing her to shiver._

_ "__Anna, I__'__m sorry, I__'__m so so sorry__…" __Elsa cried, trying to grasp her sister__'__s hand, but it kept falling away. __"__Mama! Papa!__" __She sobbed, hoping someone would come out to help her._

_ The sliding doors slid open quickly, two worried parents looking in horror at their two daughters._

_ "__I didn't mean to, I__—__I__—" __Elsa whimpered, but her father took her aside as he scooped up Anna, his face hardened yet worried._

_ "__Elsa, you are becoming out of control. How did this happen?__"_

_ "__I didn__'__t mean to, I swear, I__—"_

_ "__How did this happen?__"_

_ Elsa was choking on sobs by now, not wanting to look her father in the eye. He turned her face towards his again, and stared right into her startling blue eyes. She couldn__'__t contain it anymore, and broke down in large sobs._

_ "__I__—__got__—__mad__—__and, and I__—__hit__—__Anna__—__and__…" __Her sobs were partially drowned out by the music and chatter of the parties, but her father heard her well enough. He pulled her into a tight hug and stroked her pale blonde hair, hushing and comforting her._

_ "__Shh,__" __he said, pulling her out of the hug and holding her by the shoulders. __"__Elsa, you must learn how to control these outbursts. If you become too angry__…"_

_ Both of them nodded, knowing well what could happen._

_ As Anna was brought inside, shivering and scared, the mother squeezed Elsa__'__s hand before approaching the phone. She dialed a number, waited three rings, and began speaking hurriedly. __"__Hello? This is Idun Hird__ó__ttir. Yes, the mayor__'__s wife. I must make an appointment immediately with Doctor Pabbi. Yes__—__it__'__s gotten worse.__"_

I gasp; the memory's finally over. Thank goodness. I glance over to the clock and groan—I have to be to the meeting in five minutes. Might as well get there early, I suppose.

As I walk through the halls for the second time in the day—nearly a new record—I run my index finger over the walls, tracing the woodgrains with my fingernail. They're so smooth, so perfectly placed, that it's hard to imagine this building is over fifty years old.

Fifty years. That's right. I have to clutch my midsection just to hold back the stress that suddenly flows over me, as I remember this year is the Second Quarter Quell. Fifty years of Hunger Games. I grimace, my distaste for the Games odd in this prestigious district, and walk more quickly towards the dining hall. That's when I realize I have no idea where the meeting room is.

Luckily for me, Gerda is still in the dining hall, cleaning up from breakfast. She hears my footfall and smiles at me, making me feel guilty for leaving so abruptly. She walks over to me with outstretched arms, and I choke back a small sob. She must know what I'm thinking about.

I embrace her, something I normally don't do, and just stand there. I smell baked goods, a hint of rose perfume, and that smell most older people have. It's strangely comforting, and as soon as I pull away I remember I should be preparing to become mayor. She squeezes my shoulders, a bit of a reach for her, and I sheepishly smile.

The smile doesn't last, as soon I'm pulled away by the longing for a motherly figure like Gerda, and yet again she knows what I'm thinking.

"Just down that hall, dear."

I nod quickly, composing myself as I near the double oak doors. I hesitate, though, at the sound of talk. The highest of District One, besides myself, are having some subdued conversation, and I can't help but listen in.

"…her anger is not a good attribute for our next mayor. She should not be appointed!" The nasally voice of Head Peacekeeper Weselton, of course. He always has something against my family, but my parents had never told me. I had always assumed it was me. My assumptions seem to be confirmed.

"But she is a strong and capable woman, her eighteenth birthday just weeks ago. Ever since her parents died, she has handled it well." Kai, whom I rarely hear speak besides simple orders, seems very passionate about this. I'm surprised at his tone.

"She shut herself in her room and refused to speak to anyone! What if her sister is Reaped? Her anxiety and anger are inexcusable."

"Her panic disorder has dampened exponentially in the past years! Perhaps her parents did her a great service locking her up." My _what_? My fingers curl around door's frame, my breath rate increasing. I have to know more.

"And what of her intermittent explosive disorder, hmm? What of that? She could hurt her sister, or worse, the district!" My brow furrows. _Explosive_ doesn't sound good at all. I _need_ to know more. I take deep breaths like I was taught, and focus on the rushing river of blood pulsing in my veins to calm me down.

"The psychologist said—" Kai says, trying to contain his anger. He has stood up, as I could tell by the creaking of a chair being shoved away.

"Those psychologists are _nuts_!" Weselton nearly shouts, his fist pounding the table.

My hand slips, and the door opens, silencing the argument. I stand in the doorway, my eyes wide open, and mouth in a squiggly line of confusion and worry. I quickly straighten and put on a brave face, nodding to those in the room.

"Good morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The people present all stand when I enter, and I nod my head to seat them. I'm not even mayor yet, what will they do then? I brush off the lingering sense of ill-comfort, sitting down at the head of the long table. I decide it's not best to bring up the argument beforehand, and rather turn to Kai for the schedule.

He nods and looks to the schedule, clearing his voice. "In discussion today: Elsa's appointment as mayor, Reaping permitting; as well as the plans for the party in possibility of a victor. Miss Hirdóttir?" He nods again as he folds his own hands.

I clear my throat and speak with a slightly shaky voice. At first, nothing but a slight squeak comes out, but with some deep breaths and soothing promises of time alone after Reaping to myself, I force a somewhat weak response. "Thank you, Kai." I look at the small gathering of only the highest in the district. Captain Weselton, of course; Mr. Espagña, the speaker for District One and dignitary to the Capitol; Mr. Français, the head of manufactured goods transportation; Mr. Eirsh, CEO of the biggest company of luxury items; and finally, Kai, who sits, waiting for my response and ready to defend me if I do indeed slip up.

"Thank you," I repeat, squeezing my hands together. "I have been studying for the last few years the duties of the mayor, especially the past few weeks due to my parents'…passing. I feel I am ready to accept the duties, and plan to follow in my father's footsteps. I see no need for major changes, but shall welcome new ideas with an open mind." Kai nods, and I sigh, relaxing my tensed neck and hands slightly. I look at their faces, all of whom seem surprised at my seemingly calm and controlled attitude. They almost seem as if they were waiting for an explosion. I'll be honest…I was expecting that, too.

Captain Weselton seems least changed though, with his eyes narrowed behind tiny glasses. It's almost funny, the ratio of nose to face on the man, and I wonder how he fits it in his helmet…

That's not what I should be thinking about, not as I'm trying to prove I can be mayor. I swat away the humorous thought, but it keeps sneaking up on me like gnats. I prepare myself for the questioning to continue, and yet it's not as bad as I thought it would be. They ask me questions on taxes, imports and exports, manufacturing rates, salaries for workers, and finally, the Hunger Games. That last part is the part that really bothers me. I guess I'm supposed to say I'm all for it like most the district, but I feel I need to be honest. But then again, honesty doesn't really seem to be a big part of government these days.

"Let the Capitol produce what they wish to produce, let us accept the gifts we achieve," I say, my voice shaking with my every sentence. I'd every once in a while heard my father mutter this, usually in public conferences. I knew his real distaste for the annual child slaughter.

That seems to shut the Captain up. Internally, I am crying and laughing and shaking all at the same time, but inside, I look proper and composed. The meeting goes on.

Luckily, most of the other stuff doesn't seem to include me much more, and soon the meeting is over. I sigh audibly once I'm out from the stuffy meeting room, now trying to prepare myself for my final Reaping. May the odds be ever in my favor.

~.~.~

"Elsa?" Anna whispers as we walk towards the check-in site.

I bring a finger to my lips, sharing a small, sad smile her way. She understands, not without disappointment. I just don't want to break down in front of her and start crying, that would probably cause her to cry as well, and we have to sit in front of the entire district for the Reaping.

The prick of my finger barely hurts anymore, as I am overcome with the usual numbness I have felt the last few years. My breaths begin to shallow, and Anna takes my hand. Her warmth surprises me, as I thought she would've been too afraid to even touch me. Apparently not. Does she even remember what happened when we were little, or does she just push past it? I smile, but let my fingers slowly slip out of hers as we walk behind the curtain.

I've always felt isolated sitting up there with my parents for the Reaping, but now it's even more isolated with Anna as my only family member up here with me. Someone I don't remember winning the Games sits up with us, her slim face calm and stern. She couldn't've won them too much longer than ten years ago, but in this district, who knows? I fold my hands in my lap and await the escort's arrival. I decide to watch the crowds, taking note of any kids who strike me as odd or very possible to volunteer as tribute. I notice a twelve year old boy with pale skin and hair that sticks up at odd angles, a large eighteen year old similar in looks to him, beside the obvious bulk added on, and a group of ashen-skinned kids with slightly plump bodies, all bearing similarities to their parents, some of the most eccentric and yet wise psychologists in District 1.

My people-watching helped the time pass, as soon the escort has started his usual speech. The man has a layer of vibrant green fuzz on top of his head, with matching eyebrows and eyeliner. His lips are the same color as his skin, and his eyes are nearly black, giving him an ethereal look to his whole self. Needless to say, that was the least crazy bit about him. I shall not go into his outfit, as honestly there would be barely anything to describe. He looks as if he has just gone for a swim, being in a full-on bodysuit with drawn on designs to look like a fancy suit. Note the word _drawn_ on.

I try to look away from his tight bodysuit, but find wherever I look there's a huge TV screen displaying him somewhere else. He goes into the usual spiel about the Capitol and their "kindness" to the Districts, wording it as if it were the most enticing thing in the world. Usually my father would now speak, but they decided to let the escort say that speech as well. Goodie.

After the video, the man goes into a short speech on the Quarter Quell. His voice is really getting on my nerves now. "To celebrate fifty glorious years of the Hunger Games, our dear President Snow gives us even more to celebrate! As announced, two girls and two boys from each district will be ever so lucky to perform in the Hunger Games!"

Some applause is heard, but not much. Thank goodness this is almost over. I feel as if sweat is pooling in my gloves. Wiping them won't help, I remind myself as I brush them over my black sweater. The escort takes his sweet time walking to the glass ball of girl's names, and he plucks a single card from the bowl.

He unclips it, and everything slows down.

"Elsa Hirdóttir!"

What?

My brain seems to have malfunctioned.

I inhale sharply, someone's hand on my shoulder. It's the escort. He smells of roses and strong nail polish remover, and I can't help but wrinkle my nose. I stand up slowly, looking back at Anna. She seems to be deep in thought, though her eyes betray utter fear. For me. I can tell by the way the glances sharply at me, her delicate face contorted with worry.

Has time slowed down? I think it has. The escort's voice is much deeper now. I feel like I'm filling with morphine, a strong drug used often in the hospitals here.

He's asked for volunteers. Everyone seems too stunned to volunteer.

Except for one girl.

"I volunteer as tribute."

No. It can't be. My façade breaks down, and I turn towards my standing sister, face calm and stronger than the naïve girl I thought I knew. The escort looks out towards the crowd, and everyone seems to be frozen. Stopped from volunteering.

"We have a volunteer," he says, his voice seeming to speed up to normal…and faster. It all happens too quickly now, and I am utterly broken.

"No," I whisper hoarsely, looking at my sister with pleading eyes, "No!" I shout louder, lunging towards her. Two Peacekeepers are on me, and I can see Weselton off to the side, watching with his narrowed eyes as usual. I am pulled back to my seat…forced to sit down and watch in horror as the escort asks for Anna's name.

"Anna Hirdóttir," she whispers, her tone still stronger than mine. The escort is obviously ecstatic at the action that just happened, as he's almost squeakier than before. At least time seems normal now.

The escort beams, showing gleaming white teeth. "What a valiant thing to do for your sister. She must be very proud." He says. If I could say anything to him…

Anna squeaks and nods, a tear threatening to slip from her eye, and the escort claps his hands. That's when the plan forms.

If Anna is going into the games, she's not going without me.

He walks to the girls' ball again, but I don't even hear the name of the girl who is called. I stand up immediately, not even waiting for him to ask. I've beaten everyone to it, and they're all too surprised by my outburst to say anything. "I volunteer as tribute."

If it were a lighter celebration, I'd have laughed at the escort's face. It was quite comical to see the shock, confusion, and elation all spring upon his face at the same time. I glare at the crowd, daring anyone to volunteer, and apparently I have an icier gaze than I thought. I am District 1's second female tribute for the 50th Hunger Games.

The next few minutes are spent in dull shock. Anna's horrified face stares at me as the two boys are called, and I only realize who each one is once we are asked to shake hands. I shake hands first with the little boy I'd seen earlier, second with a tall boy about my age with sandy hair and a fur-lined vest.

Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in our favor.

~.~.~

AN/ Hey guys! So, here's my second chapter of one of my biggest fan fiction plots I've created up to date. I will be attempting to update every Wednesday, but may extend the date to two weeks if it gets too hectic. Chapters may fluctuate in size, but expect from 1500 to 3000 per chapter, perhaps even longer if I feel really creative.

Digital cookie to the person who deciphers the meaning of Elsa and Anna's last name!

Also a disclaimer, I guess, is in order. I don't own Hunger Games, Frozen, or any of their characters. I only own my ideas and my OCs.

May the odds be ever in your favor!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Each tribute gets two Peacekeepers as escorts as we are led back into the mansion. It feels wrong, being led around my own house, but I know it's for safety reasons. Imagine that, safety for the killers. How wonderful.

I am split apart from the others and led into the meeting room, and am told to sit down and wait for any visitors. I shouldn't try to escape. I should just sit here.

Easy to say when you're a Peacekeeper whose only job is to literally "keep the peace."

I sit with my hands folded, constantly wringing them and glancing back and forth. Just when I think I might be going in without any goodbyes, the door opens slowly to reveal Gerda and Kai. I stand up, accepting Gerda's open arms, and enjoy one of my final moments of intimacy. Once in the Games, it's killed or be killed.

I don't like those odds.

Gerda grasps my shoulders, and Kai looks at me intently. No words are said, but none need to be. We simply say our goodbyes in a different way.

The door opens, Captain Weselton at the door, and the couple turns away to leave. Before he exits, though, Kai whispers something in my ear that I will never forget: "Life's too short to waste another minute." And with that, he walks away, the door closing behind him.

I swallow a forming lump in my throat, and wait to see if anyone else comes. Surprisingly enough, the door opens, and I am greeted by Captain Weselton himself.

"Any words you have for me, sir?" I mutter, watching his brow crease in anger.

He simply gestures for me to follow, and I stand up calmly, letting him lead me to the train station.

As soon as I realize where we are, I have to hold on to myself to keep calm. I clench my jaw and fists, closing my eyes in shock, and hold back the tears. This is where my parents died. The exact same way I am leaving for the Capitol.

A hand on my shoulder brings me back, and I realize it's Anna again. Her eyes are almost vacant, but enough of her is still there to tell me she remembers. I clasp her hand briefly, and let it fall to her side again. The two boys are already on the train by the looks of it, so I nod to Anna and walk towards the gleaming bullet train.

Inside is a lavish car with a table of rich food and elegant drinks. The boys sit on one side of the table, and I can tell they are from that odd poor corner of District One. They stare hungrily at the food, and I can't help but smile at it.

Anna seems happier, as she sits between the boys, and starts up a conversation with the younger. Does she know him?

"Hey, Olaf," she says quietly, squeezing the little boy's hand.

He smiles, his crooked teeth showing, and whispers a response: "Hey."

"You two know each other?" I ask, feeling a bit awkward as I sit on the opposite side of the table.

My sister giggles a bit, then smacks the side of her head. All she does seems a bit muted, as if the stupor of the Hunger Games is still upon her. "I forgot you never really came out of your room. Elsa, this is Olaf, he's Kai and Gerda's little nephew." The boy smiles shyly, and I give a small smile.

"But wait," I say, rubbing a hand to my head, "why haven't they spoken of him before?" I was curious to know about this all-of-a-sudden brought-up nephew.

Anna shrugs. "Never came up, I guess?" She snatches up a croissant and takes a bite out of it. "Wow, these are good."

I'm about to remind her of manners when the escort arrives with the mentor, stopping me from saying a thing.

"Up, all of you," the mentor says, a very thick Russian accent making her sound like a soldier. "Now!" She says snappily after two seconds of delay.

We all rush into a line, Anna nearly falling over her chair as she rushes around to the other side of me. The woman's blonde hair is pulled back so tightly that her skin has also tightened, and her thin eyes are an icy blue. Her upturned nose and cheekbones give her that snobby "I'm so much better than you" look. She walks around us, muttering something incomprehensible every once in a while, and then pulls us up one at a time.

Me first.

I'm yanked in front of her, and she stares right into my eyes like daggers. "Elsa Hirdóttir. Age?" She snaps quickly.

"Eighteen."

She scoffs. "You look like a fifteen year old girl. What do you do all day, sit in your bedroom?"

That hurts for some reason. I squeak out a timid "yes," and she laughs.

"You poor child, we shall she what you really are by the time the Games begin." And with that I am shoved back into line and replaced by my sister.

"Anna Hirdóttir. Age?"

"Fifteen," she whispers, surprised by the woman's attitude.

"Fifteen?" She asks quickly, accepting Anna's nod. "And you are sister of Elsa?"

Another nod. The woman seems please with this. She looks at Anna again, and I realize I hadn't even noticed up until now her outfit. An olive skirt, pleated and covered in embroidery, and a black tank top to match, with a pale green sweater on top. She has also done her hair up, and secured it with a ribbon. Around her neck is a small locket, and she wears tall black boots. A complimentary outfit to mine.

"Anna, you look nimble. Do you have training?"

She shakes her head and answers softly, "No, I mostly ran around the mansion when I was little. It could get kinda lonely in there."

I shake slightly, but try to withhold it. Because of me, she grew up running around the mansion. Because of me, she feels alone. That hurts me even more.

Luckily the woman switches out Anna for little Olaf, who is apparently very flexible and has a big brother who wanted him to go into the Games. That's why his brother didn't volunteer…that sounds awful…would I have done that if I had grown up with Anna more?

No, I assure myself, as the final boy is brought up for inspection. His name is Kristoff, and he is the adopted son of the physicians who tried to help me with my…afflictions. I already feel awful enough watching my sister and me go into a battle to the death, but now others I know or know family of could possibly, and most likely, die on live television.

The Capitol is awful.

The woman stands in front of our line again, and stands even taller. She must be over six feet, though she is nearly thinner than a sapling tree, and has the look of an elf. "I am Electra Romanova, your mentor for these Games. I won the Hunger Games thirty years ago, when I was seventeen. I have trained many victors, and believe this year we shall win again. Although," she says, glancing my way, "we have many hurdles to overcome."

I sigh, turning my gaze downward, when the escort enters again. "What a wonderful, action-packed, fantabulous Reaping! Oh, the viewers will eat this up." His voice squeaks as if he hasn't yet escaped puberty, though his voice is still too high for that. I cover my eyes as he bends over to pick up the remote on a mahogany table, which switches on a television showing all the other Reapings. We are close to the Capitol, so our ride will be short, thank goodness, but that also means that we don't have to watch the actual Reapings, but just the recaps. Electra seats us on a white leather couch, side-by-side, and has us take note of the multitude of competitors. I notice a strong looking boy from Two, a girl volunteer for her disabled sister in Four, the other girl from Four with a fairy-like look, and a girl from Five with way too much hair.

This will be an interesting year.

A gasp comes from the electric-looking escort, and he nearly falls from fake shock. "I haven't even introduced myself!" He moans, squeaking all the while. "I am Placidus Fairbain, your escort for the entirety of the Games, and if you are victor, even longer!" His lightning-white grin nearly blinds me, but his voice slips down to a lower octave at the last word, and I hear little Olaf groan. I can't help but chuckle lightly, at which Placidus huffs. "Yes, Elsa? Do you have anything to say?" I shake my head, covering a grin with my gloved hand, and he nods. Man, Capitol people are so easily convinced.

They'd have to be to enjoy the Hunger Games.

Soon enough, we arrive in the Capitol station unscathed and unharmed. After the scare of the dark tunnel, I'm glad to see that we're still all alive. I take deep breaths as we are led towards the door, trying to brace myself to the surprise.

It still surprises me, though, and my sister has to brace me for the shock. "Just smile and walk towards the building," she whispers in my ear, and I nod, walking forward with a very fake smile on my face.

Only after I enter the building do I realize I was holding my breath. I suck in air with gasps that surprise everyone present, and I have to grin sheepishly as they go back to their fascinating jobs of rearranging papers, pots of something melted, and white robes.

Three Capitol workers rush up to me with huge grins, and I grimace. More Capitol people here to examine me? Great. They walk me towards a wooden table and look me over, nodding and whispering amongst themselves.

Finally they turn back to me, and the smallest one grins a huge, botox-filled grin, looking not at my eyes, but all over. "What are you waiting for?" She asks in a strong Capitol accent, "get those clothes off!"

What have I gotten myself into?

**AN/ Oh Elsa, if you only knew what was to come. Enjoy this next chapter of Frostbitten!**

**Also, I just wanted to say that reviews often encourage me to keep writing, and I definitely don't want to let this fanfic go! I'd love to hear your response on this story ^-^**

**Watch for next week's chapter coming Wednesday as usual!**


	4. My Apologies, and News on an UPDATE

Hey guys! Just an update on the story.

**In Response to Reviews:**

The real world is scary- thank you for your review! It made my day :) Check below for last name meaning ;)

anonymous (Kira)- Elsa does not still have her ice powers, rather, she has some different issues that she is dealing with (hence the different flashback). Very close on the last name. I googled the Norse word for royal, and got "Hir," so I went with that so it could be "royal daughter." Do inform me, anyone, if I am using that incorrectly :)

**Update on the Story:**

I am working on writing up a few chapters! The beginning is the hardest, but soon I'll ne able to frequent my updates. Finals and holiday celebrations have gotten me busy, but now I'm on break and ready to update more. Readers of my other in-progress fic, Return of the Padawan, will have to wait a bit longer for an update. I feel like I've written myself into a corner on that one honestly xD

Anyways, back to Frostbitten. I have big plans for the fic, and don't want to waste all the potential! I promise I'm still writing this one.

**My sincere apologies for my absence and for getting your hopes up for another chapter!**

**-CC**


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